


Aaron!!!!!!

by Aussiefan70



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: AU. I'm sorry. My farewell to Hotch., M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 11:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10333316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aussiefan70/pseuds/Aussiefan70
Summary: In honour of the full fledged resumption of the Angst War, and a now avowed group effort to earn our own individual time out rooms for excessive angst in the Criminal Minds fandom, I offer you my own version of losing Aaron Hotchner.Many thanks and a gift to LittleSweetCheeks for volunteering to be my beta for this fic...you're awesome.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LittleSweetCheeks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSweetCheeks/gifts).



Death crept up on Aaron Hotchner stealthily. After the incident where he’d been “swatted” and Jack had seen him removed in handcuffs, Hotch had blown off the early signs, more concerned with catching Peter Lewis, the man who’d set him up...twice now. He didn’t notice being more fatigued than usual. Aaron was too busy fighting the false accusations and dealing with the blowback from the Justice Department. It was more important to him to reassure his traumatised son and ensure his husband, Dr Spencer Reid, would be able to maintain his balance and help the team work out what was going on. He knew Spencer was strong; they’d been together many years, and married since DOMA had been struck down. But the conspiracy had unsettled his soul mate and the grueling pace of chasing multiple escaped serial killers allowed them little time to check in with each other, or provide comfort and much needed attention.

So as usual, Hotch ignored the fatigue. He was well used to sacrificing himself to manage the sometimes insurmountable challenges faced by the BAU team. Especially in this critical chase of the thirteen serial killers who’d broken free from maximum security prisons.

He disregarded other signs too. His appetite had always been hit and miss; he was too easily ensnared by the challenge of each new case, and he often forgot to eat. Spencer, distracted by trying to comfort Jack in the wake of his father’s arrest and take down, was trying to recreate some sense of normalcy and failed to notice his love was barely eating, or that his suits no longer fit him like he was ready to step onto a photoshoot for GQ.

Four escaped serial killers were captured, but the pace remained frenetic. Hotch caught the flu that was going around one of the precincts they were called to, but refused to take any time to rest. Rossi finally noticed his friend was struggling when his sweating and out of breath Unit Chief barely managed to chase the UNSUB from the back patio into the alley behind the house. He made Hotch promise to follow up with his physician on their return to Quantico, and ragged him a little on the jet about getting out of shape. But he backed off when Aaron fell asleep, his head resting on Spencer’s shoulder, after barely sleeping in the four days they’d been hunting the latest target.

Then an unexpected lead on one of the remaining escaped serial killers had everyone forgetting about Hotch’s promise to see his doctor. They all got caught up in the ultimately unsuccessful chase, and only Spencer, on reflection, noticed that his lover, his husband, his unit chief, was moving so carefully and gingerly, subtly trying to hide his discomfort.

“Whats going on Aaron? You seem in a lot of pain all of a sudden.”

“I’m pretty sure it's nothing, Spence. I think we’ve all just been pushing too hard chasing down these escaped killers. And I’m just not bouncing back like I usually do….I guess age gets us all eventually.” Aaron replied. “We can rest this weekend. Jessica has Jack and they’re headed to the family reunion. And even better, Cruz has promised the team some down time.”

Reassured by his lover, Spencer let it go. After all, Aaron had done triathlons and been hurt in the line of duty countless times. It would take more than a flu bug and overwork to take his husband down. And so it went; week after week, creeping up slowly, Aaron wasting away. No one noticing, least of all his loving husband.

Until the day came that allowed no denial any more, allowed no-one to refuse reality any longer.

*****************************************************

The BAU team had been called to Cincinnati, Ohio, for a case dealing with a serial arsonist turned killer. By this time, the team had become unconsciously accustomed to Hotch being a bit slower on the physical aspects of the job and more accustomed to seeing him work from the station.

When Aaron collapsed, the only ones there were his husband Spencer, working on the geographical profile, and Dave Rossi, who’d just returned from the first crime scene. Spencer and Dave’s first thoughts led them back to the day that Aaron had passed out in the BAU conference room, with the residual effects from the knife wounds inflicted by George Foyet.

As EMTs hustled in to assess the fallen Unit Chief, Reid stuck to his husband's side, while Rossi started to frantically report Aaron's critical medical history.  
“He’s collapsed before. He was attacked and repeatedly stabbed in the abdomen by a serial killer,” Rossi impressed on the EMTs, as Spencer refused to leave his husband’s side or let go of his hand.  
“He required surgery for tears and adhesions a couple of years ago, related to the stabbing. It was touch and go then,” Dave relayed, desperate to to ensure his friend’s medical history was known to the ones managing his care. He knew Reid would be unable to pass on much in the way of explanations, as distraught as he was about his husband’s status.

Riding with his unconscious spouse to the hospital, Spencer Reid sent up an impulsive prayer to a God he was pretty sure he didn’t believe in.  
“Please don’t take Aaron from Jack and me. We need him too much. He’s our sanity, our touchstone. I don’t think either of us would survive without him.”

Arriving at the ER, a still unconscious Hotch was raced into an exam room as Spencer was delayed to start the paperwork and fill staff in on the medical history. The ER physician ordered extensive bloodwork and set up for a brain CT, worried about a stroke or brain bleed. The blood was drawn promptly and sent to the lab, while they had to wait for the CT to be free. In the meantime, the ER attending put Hotch through as comprehensive a physical exam as he could, on an unconscious patient.

Nearly an hour later and with paperwork completed, Spencer got to join Hotch in the ER exam room as he returned from CT. The rest of the team was congregated in the waiting room, anxious to learn about their Unit Chief’s condition.

A short while later, Aaron began to slowly rouse to consciousness, though he remained a little groggy. The ER physician returned to the exam room, results in hand, and Spencer clutched Aaron’s hand, suddenly nervous about what was to come. The ER doctor, feeling awkward, cleared his throat, unsure where to begin.

“Okay, my name is Dr Pike. How are you feeling, Mr Hotchner?”

“Actually its Agent Hotchner,” Reid interjected. “We’re both with the FBI’s Behavioural Analysis Unit.”

“So - Agent Hotchner, how are you feeling?” He began again.

“Pretty tired mostly, and sore all over. What happened, Doc?”

“Well you did collapse, and remained unconscious for a long period, even after you arrived at our ER. I can give you some good news. The fact that you’ve awakened and can converse with me means a stroke is unlikely, and this was reinforced by the CT results. And you've not suffered an aneurysm either.”

Profiler Hotch, ever attuned to subtle verbal signs and non-verbal cues, knew the doctor was holding back.  
“So what is it you’re not telling me - well us actually?” Grabbing Spencer’s hand once again, Aaron sought the comfort of his husband’s touch.

“Your bloodwork came back with significant abnormalities, Agent Hotchner. We’ll need to do a bone marrow biopsy and test for genetic markers, but we’re almost one hundred percent certain that you have Acute Myelogenous Leukaemia (AML).”

“Leukaemia?.....Cancer?????” Hotch echoed. “You can’t be certain of that in such a short time.”

“Yes we are,” Dr Pike replied, “And by looking at your blood counts, you’ve been ignoring the warning signs for a good while”.

Reid, his genius brain rapidly searching for all references to AML in adults, put two and two together. “Oh my god, Aaron. It's been more than six months! You’ve been fatigued, I’ve noticed times when you’ve been short of breath, you’ve lost quite a lot of weight and had more than one infection in that time. And you just told me you’ve been having bone and joint pain lately as well.” Distraught, Spencer continued guiltily, “How could I have missed this? You’re the love of my life and I see you every day. I have all this information stored in my brain….how could I not see it before now?”

Aaron tried to reassure his genius husband. “Love, none of us saw this. I’m just as shocked as you! As will the rest of the team be, when we tell them. Lets just calm down and see what the treatment options are.”

“Agent Hotchner, Dr Reid - I have to tell you, I’ve already consulted with our in house oncologist. Dr Lee will be setting you up with someone close to your home in Virginia. But I have to say, this delay to diagnosis and starting treatment, combined with the length of time you’ve experienced symptoms…. Let me be frank, it doesn’t bode well for a favourable outcome.” Shocked, Aaron and Spencer huddled together on the gurney in the exam room, as they waited for Dr Lee to arrive.

*****************************************************

A short while later, Dr Lee reviewed the blood work and prognosis with the two FBI agents, and addressed the concerns about the delayed diagnosis and its consequences.  
“There are critical gene markers we must test for,” he stressed. “The right or wrong gene markers takes the five year survival rate in AML from 70% with favourable markers, all the way down to 15% or lower. Keep in mind, these are survival rates for just five years, not cure rates. We need those tests done immediately.” Fearful, Aaron and Spencer asked what the next step would be.

“We have to get you back to Virginia as soon as possible, and into the hands of the best oncologist I can find. We need the bone marrow biopsy and the tests for genetic markers run yesterday, if at all possible. At least we can get the blood work markers run from here, to get the ball rolling,” Dr Lee answered.

Chastened and alarmed, the two men were left for alone for a short while the testing was set up. Overwhelmed, neither of them could decide how to even begin to tell the team what is going on, let alone Jack.

“Bring in Dave,” Aaron suggested. “He’s been through so much, with Caroline and all. He’ll handle this the best of them all.”  
Spencer agreed. “And he knows everyone who’s anyone. I’m sure he can get us the best physicians on the East Coast.” Spencer paused, “You have to be alright, Aaron. I don’t think I could make it without you.”

Aaron tried for comfort. “I don’t want you to either, Spencer, but there’s Jack too. You know he calls you Papa, and he’s so comfortable with you since the adoption. If the worst happens, you need to be there to take care of our son. And let him take care of you too. Him being there...it saved my life after Haley….” Aaron’s voice trailed off.

“No talking of losing you, Aaron. You promised to teach me to waltz, so we could celebrate our 50th wedding anniversary properly!” Spencer insisted. Unable to find words, Aaron just clutched his husband’s hand and mentally reiterated that promise.

The two men, after taking Dave into their confidence and enlisting his help, decided to keep things from the rest of the team, at least until they received a definitive diagnosis and treatment plan. JJ was a little suspicious when they announced Hotch had been suffering from dehydration and exhaustion related to the infection and workload, being able to read Spencer almost as well as a sibling, but she kept her fears to herself, unwilling to rock the boat just yet.

******************************************************

Things moved swiftly on the return home. Dr Lee had followed through and completed the bloodwork for the genetic markers, whilst also arranging an initial consult with the DC area’s pre-eminent hemo-oncologist. The pair were encouraged when Dave’s connections identified the same physician.

Just a week after collapsing in Cincinnati, Aaron and Spencer found themselves in Dr Jacobi’s office, Jessica having been enlisted to pick Jack up from school if the consult ran over.

“I’m sorry Mr Hotchner,” Dr Jacobi began, after getting through the usual pleasantries and introductions. “Agent Hotchner,” Spencer reiterated, unable to help the reflexive response.

“Agent Hotchner, I’m sorry to tell you that you do indeed have advanced AML, and also carry the most concerning genetic markers for this disease”.

“What does this mean for us?” Aaron asked, fearful and confused.

“Agent Hotchner, basically you have the worst case scenario for this disease. You were very late in being diagnosed, and your genetic markers suggest a very low chance of significant remission. Your chances of a cure are statistically non-existent, and a chance for remission, with incredibly aggressive treatment, would be 10 percent or less. I can’t, in good conscience, recommend chemotherapy which is our normal first line treatment for this condition. I suspect all it would do would impair the quality of life that you do have.”

Shocked, Aaron couldn’t say a word, but his genius husband immediately unleashed his impressive brain. After all, he’d been reading voraciously for a week now.

“Dr Jacobi - have you considered Aaron as a candidate for any of the new experimental treatments, based on the genetic markers and stem cell treatments? I believe, based on the situation, my husband would be eligible to enter the clinical trials. Is there anything we can try that might have some effect?”

Knowing Spencer was desperately grasping at straws, Dr Jacobi decided the kindest answer was to just rip the bandaid from the wound and address the situation face on.

“I’m afraid that there’s nothing we can do. If the AML had perhaps been caught a few months sooner…...but really, Agent Hotchner's genetic markers indicate a very poor match for any of the treatments, and suggest almost no chance of achieving even a short remission. We really need to consider hospice options...and yes, I have consulted with my colleagues. We agree there’s no other choice.”

“What the hell????” Reid burst out, nearly launching out of his chair. Aaron laid a calming hand on his husband’s arm. “Sit down my love. Sit down. We need to do this...talk about this together. I’m going to need your help to handle this process. God knows I never wanted to say goodbye to you, but something tells me that choice isn’t in my hands any longer.”

Pacified a little by his husband’s words, Spencer settled a little, until another thought exploded in his mind. “What about Jack? What do we say to him Aaron. He’s lost Haley! I can’t let him lose you too.”

“I’m sorry love, but I think that’s a done deal. He’s going to have to be part of this journey with us. We can’t hide any part of this from him. He deserves the right to a proper goodbye….he never got that with his mother.”

At that solemn, and so Hotch-like pronouncement, Spencer broke down completely, utterly ruined at the idea of losing his soulmate and shepherding his son through another beloved parent’s loss.

*****************************************************

Within days of returning to Virginia, and receiving the dire news from Dr Jacobi, Aaron and Spencer decided to let the team know what was going on. It was inevitable really. Hotch had to immediately file for a disability retirement from the Bureau and Spencer was refusing to return to work, if it would take even a single minute away from each precious moment he had remaining with Aaron.

Jack took the news with relative acceptance. He was scared to lose his Dad, but was comforted by the constant presence of his Papa and that they both made sure to spend every possible moment with their precious son.

The team visited frequently, whenever their caseload permitted.

Garcia baked ever more temptingly tasty morsels, hoping to tease Aaron’s failing appetite and taste buds.

JJ brought over Henry and Michael often, bolstering Jack’s spirits, and comforting Aaron by allowing him to see his son could still enjoy life and play.

Emily, at Hotch's recommendation, returned from Interpol, taking over as team lead. She stopped by with frequent updates, letting Hotch know that the tradition of both his team and his work ethic was secure.

Morgan could only manage to come by infrequently, bringing Savannah and Hank, but feeling lost that he couldn't make everything right for his former boss and “Pretty Boy”.

The newest members of the team, Lewis and Alvez, dropped by occasionally, knowing Reid needed the support but feeling uncomfortable intruding on the already grieving family, mourning the man who was still alive.

And Dave? Well Rossi was racking up frequent flier visitor miles. He stopped in every chance he had, bearing gifts of all shapes and sizes. He took pleasure in inundating the small family with everything they might want; from beautifully catered meals, aimed at tempting Hotch’s faltering appetite, to rare books that would offer Reid some comfort, and to creative outings that would allow the two men to build more quality memories with their young son as they all tried to pretend they really weren’t engaged in a slow, prolonged death watch.

Two months after Hotch’s fatal diagnosis, David Rossi retired once more from the BAU, determined to stand by his closest friends one last time. As Aaron weakened, slept more and ate less, Dave became a second nursemaid and parent, caring for Spencer, Aaron and Jack with equal shares of tenderness.

When Aaron started to fade more and more, Spencer became more determined to spend every possible moment with his beloved husband, mentor and soulmate. He slept little, ate less; only taking time away from Aaron to ensure Jack felt as loved and secure as he could possibly manage.

Jack was fortunately able to rely more and more on his Uncle Dave, as long as he got to spend short periods with his Dad and Papa on a regular basis. As young as he was, he knew there was an almost sacred process at work in his home, between his two dads, and he instinctively found ways to support that.

And so, on a beautiful spring day, four months after the fateful trip to Cincinnati, Dave proposed an afternoon of kite flying in the backyard. Jack eagerly agreed, anxious to revel in the unseasonable warmth and escape some of the unspoken tension inside the house. Spencer, reluctantly acknowledging the time was close, agreed when he could see his partner rousing easily for the first time in several days, knowing he wanted to feel the sun once more.

Aaron was more responsive than he had been for the past week and Spencer could almost pretend the end wasn’t at hand. Wrapped warmly in blankets and wheeled out to the patio, he was safely reclined in his husband’s arms in a lounger and smiled at the sight of his son and oldest friend attempting to get a kite aloft in the capricious breeze.

Looking fondly at his genius husband, feasting on the face he adored, Aaron summoned the strength to tell Spencer, “Go help Dave and Jack. I bet at least one of those PhDs of yours can get that kite in the air!”

Smiling at the joke, Spencer asked, “Are you sure? You’ll be ok while I get them started? I’ll be right back”.  
Grinning, Aaron showed those rarely seen dimples, more pronounced now by the thinness of his face, ravaged by his illness. “Go! I’ll be fine,” Aaron reassured his beloved. “I’ll just watch from here and enjoy the view.”

Bolstered by Aaron’s smile and words, Spencer walked over to Dave and Jack and successfully launched the kite on the second attempt.

As Aaron watched his son, his true love and his best friend laughing in delight at their success, he saw his legacy was secure. They had each other. It was time to let go.

And so he took one slow breath, and then another. And then no more.

Across the garden, as Spencer felt his soulmate leaving, the sudden realisation slammed in. Beginning a mad dash across the lawn, all that could be heard was the anguished cry……

”Aaron!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

"They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time." —Banksy

**Author's Note:**

> There was a wonderful evening soap opera in Australia, in the 80s and 90s, called A Country Practice. One of the main characters was also lost to Leukaemia and I admit to shameless borrowing and modifying the last kite flying scene with the final “Molly!!!”. 
> 
> It was estimated that over half the Australian population watched that episode and I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a dry eye in any house. I hope I’ve paid the storyline homage (and supplied enough angst to earn my own time out room!).


End file.
